


bleeding out

by ViolyntFemme



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Canon Typical Violence, F/M, Harry Hart is emotionally constipated, Hurt with a little bit of comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit (Kingsman), honeypots gone wrong, overuse of the word fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7381732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolyntFemme/pseuds/ViolyntFemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes the ring off, scratching his finger in his haste. Grabbing a piece of paper from the table by the door, he leaves a note for Eggsy. "You will be out of this house by the time I get back." He places the ring on top of the note, then flips the button on the pen taking it from a writing instrument to a stiletto and drives it into the wood, pinning the ring and note. </p><p>Then, because he’s a fucking goddamn spy, he walks out of the door and disappears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bleeding out

**Author's Note:**

> Self-beta'd. Please let me know if you see anything I missed.
> 
> Thanks to gunshyvw and opalescentgold who cheered me on as I wrote this. This is my first fic, and honestly, my first piece of writing in almost 10 years, so I look forward to reading your comments.

Harry fiddles with his cuffs for a moment, delaying entry into the the party. He wasn’t supposed to be here and originally he had planned to go home. He was fresh off a month stint of flying all over the world, talking to new potential investors, and coddling new heads of state that were still wary even after a year had passed from V-Day. Shaking hands and kissing babies as the Americans would say.

The only things that kept him from bashing heads and kicking kidneys were his nightly comms with Eggsy who was home or off on his own mission, or a few memorable comms with Merlin which turned into each of them drinking their own bottle of whisky and an ever continuing game of Never Have I Ever. The things he still found out about Merlin after thirty years. He shudders.

But knowing that Eggsy was not home but instead was at the yearly Kingsman Tea, which is no longer really a Tea, but more like a posh, one room pub crawl, made Harry grab his best suit and head down to the hall. He wasn’t due to be back for another four days, but he missed Eggsy, and Merlin, and JB, and his fucking slippers. So he came back to London, eager to surprise Eggsy right out of his pants, although not at the party. 

Well, maybe not at the party. 

Possibly. 

He was nothing if not good at improvisation.

He walks into the room, immediately hears Eggsy’s laugh and turns towards it like a compass. His eyes take in the line of Eggsy’s shoulders, the glint of light on his fair hair, and the way his hand is sitting on a dark haired girl’s hip. Eggsy wears the more modern single-breasted suit that he favors, a navy with a subtle pinstripe. It's a fabric that Harry picked out for him and somehow that makes it worse.

Surprisingly enough, it doesn’t hurt at first. As Harry stands there watching Eggsy, the love of his goddamn life, flirting with that girl, he actually feels nothing. No shock, no pain in his chest, no blinding jealous rage.

He remembers that dagger he took in between his ribs about ten years ago. He never felt it go in, he never felt it go out. He stayed on his feet fighting until a white-hot pain shot through him and he saw blood on his favorite dress shirt. It happened so cleanly that he was unaware of the wound till he was almost passing out from blood loss.

He watches them for a moment, assessing the situation, as is second nature to him. This is supposed to be a simple social occasion. A chance for Eggsy, as a newer agent, to practice his arse kissing on some of the wealthier local Kingsman benefactors. Eggsy does not have on his glasses, so it was unlikely it was a mission, nor is Harry aware of any mission-related activities that were planned for the party, which as Arthur, he damn well should be.

No, he thinks, as his face completely shuts down, this is the light of his life, flirting with what Harry was sure was a lovely girl when he believes that Harry is far away.

Eggsy’s voice floats over to him as Harry watches his finger trace the girl’s collarbone.

“What’s say you and me find one of those alcoves, yeah?” His accent his own, and not the painfully posh one he usually uses at events like these.

The girl smiles at him, looking at him through her lashes. “I know you, I’ve seen you at these things before. You and your _partner_.” Her voice changes a little when she says the word partner, tinged with disdain or mockery.

“Oh, he’s nothing.” Eggsy laughs a little. “Well, he’s not nothing. I mean he’s a little bit of my boss, a little bit of my wallet, and a little bit convenient. But, the one thing he ain’t, is able to satisfy me. The old man can barely keep it up.” Eggsy moves the finger is on her collarbone up her neck and slowly wraps his hand around her nape, pulling her closer. “You though, I bet you could keep me well satisfied.”

And there it is, the pain Harry was not feeling earlier, blossoming through his chest, his breath stopping, making him wonder if after all these years his heart breaking would be the thing to kill him. In front of all these people too. Not very dignified. Not at all.

The girl leans forward like she is going for a kiss, skips over his lips and puts her mouth against Eggsy’s ear. “You know what else he’s a 'little bit' of?”

“What’s that?” Eggsy’s mouth moves away from her cheek.

“He’s a little bit behind you.”

In other circumstances Harry might have found it comical the way Eggsy jumps, completely taken unawares. _You’re a spy, Eggsy, fucking act like one,_ Harry thinks to himself. Eggsy slowly turns around and locks eyes with Harry. For a moment Harry swears he sees sorrow in those green eyes, but then it is gone. Eggsy’s one hand slips into his pocket and the other slips around his new friend's waist as he turns away.

“Well, I guess that’s one less thing I have to worry about.” Eggsy says, leading the girl away.

—————

Harry walks into their home, his home, with no real recollection of how he got there. He taps his glasses, pinging Merlin.

“Merlin,” he said, surprised at how even he sounds. “I am taking two weeks leave starting now.”

“Harry? What are you on about, you’re not even back home.”

“I am actually, arrived back a few hours ago and now I am leaving again. You’re always bitching at me to take a vacation so I am. Now. You are in charge in the interim, and I want no communication from anyone. Understood? Anyone.”

Harry moves upstairs to the wall safe that only he knows about. The safe that contains his, as he likes to call it, _Get the Fuck Out of Dodge Bag_. In it he keeps a weeks worth of clothes, a current, but fake passport, a phone, a few assorted Kingsman weapons, and wallet of cash.

“What about Eggsy, is he going to wherever you’re fucking off to as well? Does he even know your back?” Merlin sounds wrong footed, a rarity.

“Oh, he knows. I just ran into him at the Tea. He seemed to be enjoying himself.” Harry’s throat closes up _._

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Merlin says, his voice quiet. “Harry…”

“What, Merlin? What the fuck? You knew what he was doing down there? You fucking knew?” Harry’s fist connects with the wall before he knows he even swung. “You knew Eggsy was down there flirting with some tart, and you didn’t stop it?” He can’t _breathe_ \- he can’t _see_ \- he can not deal with Eggsy and Merlin both fucking him over.

“Harry, listen.” Merlin’s voice takes on the tone he uses when Harry was doing something he thought was monumentally stupid.

“No, you fucking listen. When I get back you and I will have some fucking words, you sorry shit. But until then, you and Eggsy and everyone in Kingsman will leave me the fuck alone.”

Harry takes off his glasses, throwing them on the floor. He can hear Merlin’s voice coming through them, small and tinny. “Harry, you enormous twat, lis…” Harry’s foot comes down on them repeatedly, until nothing but shards of glass and plastic are left..

His bag is over his shoulder and as he reaches for the door, he hears his ring clink against the knob. He blinks down at it. It was a simple gold band. _Just a promise ring, yeah? So all those birds and blokes know you’re taken Harry. You don’t have to wear it though if you don’t want to._ Eggsy had blushed furiously when he had given it to Harry, knowing how silly a promise ring between two grown men had sounded. But Harry loved it, and loved him, so he wore it whenever he could.

He takes the ring off, scratching his finger in his haste. Grabbing a piece of paper from the table by the door, he leaves a note for Eggsy. You will be out of this house by the time I get back. He places the ring on top of the note, then flips the button on the pen taking it from a writing instrument to a stiletto and drives it into the wood, pinning the ring and note.

Then, because he’s a fucking goddamn spy, he walks out of the door and disappears.

—————

**Four weeks earlier**

Merlin sits in his office ( _Cave,_ Eggsy’s voice said, _Merlin, you sit in a fucking cave all day. I’m surprised you haven’t gone fucking bioluminescent on us_ ) with four screens on, his tablet balanced against four mugs with varying amounts of cold tea in them, chewing on a pen, and twirling in circles in his chair. The overhead light reflects off of his head while his long, wool covered legs propel him around and around.

_Spppppiiiin._

He is dreadfully bored. All the agents are home except for Bors, who he passed off to Elaine, and Lancelot, currently being handled by Percival, who is guiding her through a sniper mission like a proud father, or in this case, uncle.

_Spppppiiiin._

He could almost feel himself wishing for Harry to pop in, say something snarky about his lack of a social life, and drag him up stairs for a drink. Or ten. He had been saving some especially tasty revelations for the next Never Have I Ever because getting Harry Hart to spit expensive scotch all over himself was truly one of the finer things in life. You would think the man who once had an LSD induced orgy with a hippie terrorist group while being handled by Chester Fucking King would have zero shame, but let Merlin admit he had once dressed up like a particularly ugly nun and let the old Lancelot rim him on a dare, and Harry all but choked to death.

  _Spppppiiiin._

Out of sheer boredom Merlin brings up the feed from Harry’s glasses.

“… As we are ever grateful, I’m sure, Your Majesty.” Harry’s voice comes through the comms. 

Harry’s glasses shift from a lean brown hand on his leg up to show the Crown Prince of whatever little country he was in right now gazing at him through kohl-rimmed eyes. The light in the room glints off the diamond stud in his nose. At least the man is pretty, Merlin thinks.

“Christ man, you’ve got three more weeks of this shite, chin up.” Merlin grumbles and Harry sputters into his cup.

“If you will excuse me for just a moment, Your Majesty.” Harry says, rising to his feet and backing away to find a washroom.

“Jesus, Merlin, don’t just jump in like that, I nearly choked on my tea.”

“From the way you sounded, that would be more enjoyable than talking with the Prince.”

“Yes, well, the man is dreadfully dull and believes that because he is pretty, that is easily overlooked. Plus, he seems to have a Daddy complex and keeps finding reasons to touch me. I feel like a bloody rent boy for Kingsman.” Harry says, rolling his yes.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Merlin replies.

Harry chuckles. “Quite.”

“How much more do you think you could get if you bent him over his own throne?”

“Not enough. Could you imagine? ‘May I please fuck your arse now, Your Majesty?’” Harry’s accent beccomes even more plummy. “’Would you be opposed to me releasing in your mouth, Your Majesty?’ And then his personal attendants could come wipe my spunk off his lips. Ghastly.”

“Needs must Harry. Stick it in and think of Kingsman.” 

“No, thank you. Why don’t you fly out here and do it yourself?”

“Come now, aren’t you forgetting I much prefer to be on the receiving end? Speaking of which did I ever tell you about the time Kay had me over Ches...”

“Yes, Jesus, Merlin. For fucks sake.” Merlin could see Harry’s blush in the bathroom mirror through the feed.

Merlin’s laughter echoed in his office. “Well, if you’re going to be a prude, at least do a visual sweep of the room. Give me something to do.”

“Fine, just be quiet.”

Harry walks back into the room, slowly looking around to give Merlin enough time to see everyone there.

“Who is your friend talking to?” Harry looks over to see Dalton Lindsford, the man he was traveling with, one of the Kingsman board members, talking quietly in a corner with another man Harry doesn't recognize.

“He’s hardly my friend. I loathe the man. Would you like me to get an introduction?”

“No, no.” Merlin answers, tapping away at his keyboard. “I’ll run some facial recognition, see what I can find out. Until then go play with your pretty boyfriend.”

“I’d love to, but seeing as he is there with you I must wait for our nightly chat and wank. I’ll make sure I email you the feed.”

“Christ, you will not either,” Merlin said, now the one sputtering into his cold tea. “I’ll be scarred for life, seeing your wrinkled little prick.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, now would it? Hart out.”

“You little shit,” Merlin says, laughing, to the empty channel. He brings up all the faces in Harry’s feed, weeding out the ones he knows and running the unfamiliar ones through his facial recognition software. Bored again.

_Spppp…._

“Merlin?” Percival knocks on the doorframe. “I just wanted to let you know Lancelot is on her way home. Target is down, mission successful.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Right, well I’m off then.” Percival turns to walk out and Merlin takes the time to admire the lean lines of him in his suit. Percival was one of the agents who just seemed to blend in anywhere. Unless you kept your eye on him, he just seemed to disappear into the walls or some such shit. His skin was pale, even for a Londoner, and he favored all black suits, with grey or black ties and dress shirts. He should have looked like an undertaker, but somehow he just reminded Merlin of a selkie.

“Percival, care for a pint?”

He turns around and looks at Merlin skeptically. “Why, do you have a new brand of poison you want to test?”

Merlin stands up, straightening his jumper, walks over to him, and slings his long arm around his shoulders. “No, you paranoid shit. But I was wondering, how do you feel about nuns?”

—————

“He’s a little bit behind you.”

Eggsy’s heart stops. Literally fucking stops in his chest. _What in the actual fuck is Harry doing back? He was supposed to have four more days. Four!_ He turns around to see Harry standing in the doorway, frozen in the act of shooting his cuffs. His dove grey suit is impeccable on him, and Eggsy wonders how long he has been back if he looks that polished. Harry’s soft, chocolate hair with the distinguished, _old, Eggsy, it makes me look old_ , grey at the temples is perfectly swept back, and his eye patch, covering the legacy of V-Day, sits behind his glasses. Harry looks posh and rakish all at the same time, and Eggsy wants to do nothing more than walk over there and snog him against the wall. But he can’t. Their eyes meet and Eggsy expects to see rage, jealousy, _something_ but there is nothing. Harry’s face is perfectly blank and cold.

Eggsy forces himself to mirror that expression, turning away from Harry, and reaching for Carlita, the golden skinned mark he was on tonight. _Merlin will explain everything. He will._ His other hand slips into his pocket, his nails pressing into his palm so deeply they draw blood. Penance.

“Well, I guess that’s one less thing I have to worry about.”

—————

Eggsy returns to their home the next morning after spending the night with Carlita. He was in top form last night, he was, making sure she came twice before petting her to sleep. He couldn’t get off himself, instead pretending to wank while eating her out. Before Harry, Carlita would have been just his type, round and plump, with thighs soft and grabbable. But now, after Harry, all he could think of was the scent of thousand quid cologne and the cold dead eyes of his lover betrayed.

He moves through the house looking for Harry. There is an empty safe on the second floor, low to the floor, behind where a potted plant normally sat. Harry is gone. All that’s left is a knife in his heart, a pair of broken glasses, and a shattered mirror.

He sinks to the floor, holding the note and Harry’s ring. He pings Merlin through his glasses.

“Eggsy? Where are you?”

“I’m home, Merlin. Where is Harry? Tell me you have him.” His words are shaky, his voice hoarse, like he’s been screaming. Which he has been, inside, since he turned away from Harry.

“No, lad. He left last night and I have no idea where he fucked off to as of right now.” Merlin sounds tired, and worried.

“So, you didn’t tell him? He doesn’t know?” It hits Eggsy then, what Harry heard him say. The secret and not so secret fears Harry has always had about their relationship and thinks Eggsy didn’t know about. Eggsy used those and _Harry fucking heard him_. “Oh, god, he thinks I meant them. He thinks I’m everything I promised him I weren’t.”

“We will find him, Eggsy. We will. I know every single bolthole and hiding place he has.”

“How could you not tell him Merlin? Now he’s run off to God only knows where thinking that I was using him.”

“He broke comms before I could Eggsy. He is jealous and possessive, and when he’s pissed, there is no talking to him. But we will find him. I will find him. Harry likes to think no one knows about his little escape plans. He forgets that when he gets pissed, he also gets talkative. When I find him I’ll explain everything and bring him home to you.”

—————

Harry makes it to the tiny, dirty little hotel in Fucked If I Know, Scotland before he breaks. All the control he used to get him out of London, on the plane, and to the hotel leaves him in a moment, sending him to his knees on the dirty carpet.

Every pain he has suffered, every bullet, lash, cut, punch, fall, has nothing on this. He knew, _he fucking knew_ , that it was too good to be true, his and Eggsy’s relationship. Why would someone so bright want to be with a shadow man like himself, all scarred and broken? And Harry tried, he really did. He did everything he could to keep Eggsy’s happy, spoiling him, doting on him, fucking him until the boy was sobbing ( _When you could get it up, right granddad?_ Eggsy’s voice taunts him.) And even then, even on the nights his body could not respond the way his mind did, he still took care of Eggsy. A year, a year of fighting and fucking and kissing and loving each other so hard, so fiercely, that Harry was surprised it didn’t leave marks on his skin, his and Eggsy’s love written across their bodies like a palimpsest.

And the whole time Eggsy had been laughing at him, at the poor, doting old man with his young lover. How many other people had Eggsy had while he was gone, or while Eggsy was on a mission? Why had he even bothered with Harry in the first place?

Outside, the gloaming settles over the town, peaceful. Inside his room though, Harry rages and drinks shitty scotch that burns like petrol, knocking his head against the wall until he finally blacks out.

—————

**Four weeks earlier**

Merlin returns to his office the next morning and gently sits down. His eyes flit across the screen checking for any alerts on the recog software he ran yesterday. A few of the  alerts Kingsman already knew about, and were content to let them hang about, watched from afar. One though, the man Harry’s traveling companion had been speaking to, came up as no one. Literally no one. No match at all for anyone anywhere, which was near impossible for someone who ran in the circles this man did.

Merlin decided he wasn’t going to alert Harry yet. He didn’t want Harry fucking Hart tearing off on his own investigation with Dalton Lindsford, Mr. Mystery’s friend, in a fifty foot radius of him at all times. No, he would do some digging, and act accordingly when he found something.

He pages a minion for a fresh Earl Grey. Definitely not bored now.

Three days later he finds something. Mr. Mystery was Xander Shade, a mid-level arms dealer that Kingsman had had dealings with before, although the dealings were with his slightly more tech savvy brother, and the dealings ended up with the brother dead.

The question was what Mr. Shade had to do with one of Kingsman’s Board of Directors.

—————

Harry spends the day in various stages of inebriation in his hotel room until he could not bear to look at himself any longer. Dragging himself into the shower, he forces himself to go through the motions of making himself look at least nominally presentable, and heads out into the seedier parts of the town.

He is itching for something, anything to distract him. A fight, a fuck, something he can feel through this bone deep numbness that has settled throughout his body. He doesn't have a preference, so he flashes his watch in the lights of the bars he walks in and out of, gestures with his wallet when he knows people are looking. Money will find him either and it is almost exciting that he doesn’t know which one will be first.

Turns out it’s the fuck. Just as he is leaving the last bar for the night, a man sidles up to him.

“You look lonely, Daddy.” The man looks up at him, biting his bottom lip in a way that Harry was sure he thinks was coquettish. He looks at him appraisingly. Young still, but older than Eggsy, and a little rougher, with pale skin, dark messy hair, and dark eyes. He dresses younger than he is, artfully ripped jeans and a tight t-shirt, but Harry can see the lines around his eyes. Caused by hard living or age, Harry can’t tell.

“I assure you, I am not your father, nor your _Daddy_ ,” Harry says with a little more disdain that he should. 

The man’s approach changes instantly. “Oh, sorry. You want to get out of here? There’s an alley around back, I can make you forget your troubles quicker than that pint you got in your hand.” His hand traces up Harry’s forearm lightly.

“How much?”

The man leans over and whispers in his ear.

“Fine. But we aren’t going to some filthy alley, we can go to my room.”

“I don’t really go back to other people’s rooms.”

“And I am not ruining my trousers in some back alley. I’ll triple your rate.” Harry watches the need for money war with the man’s self-preservation instincts. Money wins.

“Alright, sure. The name’s Daniel.”

“As lovely as that is, Daniel. I’m not paying for your name, or your conversation skills. Come along.”

The walk back to the hotel is awkward but Harry couldn't care less. Once in his room, Daniel goes to kiss him, but Harry stops him by pushing him to his knees. Daniel doesn’t seem to care and immediately goes to work on Harry’s flies. Once his cock is out and down Daniel’s throat, Harry puts his head back against the door so he doesn’t have to look at the dark head bobbing. Daniel is exceedingly good at his job, finding the right rhythm between masterful sucking and pulling off to stroke him with his hand. Too quick Harry feels his orgasm creeping up on him.

“Enough, over the bed.” Harry pulls out the small packet of lube and condom from his trousers. After a quick, perfunctory prep, Harry lines up and pushes in.

It’s a hate fuck for all that he tries for it not to be. Each thrust reminds him that it is not Eggsy’s velvet heat he’s rutting into, it’s not Eggsy’s sweet little sounds in his ear as Harry fucks into him, making him lose his mind. Then Daniel talks, most likely what he thinks Harry wants to hear.

“Oh, fuck, you’re huge. Come on, fuck me.”

Harry pushes his face into the bed. “Shut the fuck up, shut up, shut up,” each command punctuated by a hard thrust and his hand tightening around the nape of Daniel’s neck. Harry keeps the punishing pace up until he comes. As soon as he finishes, he pulls out, disposes of the condom, and walks across the room to get away from the man.

“Now get the hell out.” Harry says without even looking at Daniel.

Daniel stands, his still hard cock jutting out. “What about me?”

Harry still doesn’t turn around. “Your money is next to the door, get the fuck out before I throw you out.”

“You’re a right fucking prick, Granddad, and the lamest fuck I’ve ever had.” Daniel says as he tries getting his tight jeans over his erection. “Whoever the hell I just stood in for was right for leaving you.”

Harry whirls around, advancing towards Daniel. As much as he should look ludicrous, a naked man on the wrong side of fifty, Daniel must see something in his face because he flies out the door with his money before Harry even gets close to him.

Harry moves towards the door, locking it, and then turning to grab one of the bottles of whisky he has. Perhaps he’ll take a bath. If he’s lucky, he might even drown.

—————

Eggsy wakes up on the foyer floor feeling like something has died in his mouth. His face is sticky with dried tears and snot. He feels confused for a moment, wondering why he was on the floor and not in bed with Harry.

And then he remembers _Harry’s face when he turned away the note the ring Harrys gone he is gone he is…_

His phone rings in his pocket, it’s the mark from last night.

“Carlita, hello, love. I was just thinking about you… Oh, I would definitely like to see you again tonight, what’s your pleasure?” Eggsy chuckles, letting false heat slip into his voice, “Oh, well that is definitely on the menu, the taste I got last night was a preview, yeah? Dinner party at your dad’s house? I’ll be there.”

As soon as he hangs up, he puts on his glasses and pings Merlin. “I’m in, tonight.”

“Good, lad. Listen, I’ve found Harry. He’s in some sort of back-arsed town in Scotland. We can get this mission put to bed tonight and then both go see the twat tomorrow, explain what was going on.”

“Yeah, good, Merlin. I’m just going to get my shit together for tonight then.”

“Eggsy, we will get this sorted. I promise.”

“Yeah. Ok.”

Eggsy walks through the house aimlessly. Although he has lived here officially for six months, unofficially since the first night, a year ago, that he spent in Harry’s bed, he really has very little stuff here. Most of his belongings are still over at the flat his mother and Daisy live in. He goes into the bedroom, lays out his clothes for tonight, and then packs his clothes in the few pieces of luggage he has. Within a few hours everything he had brought over the Harry’s is in two suitcases and a carry-on bag. Clothes, a few books and pictures, the one Roxy had framed for him that has him and Harry laughing together outside the shop makes him cry for thirty minutes. He re-boxes his games and console that Harry had bought him for Christmas and leaves it on the floor of the sitting room. Harry could do what he wanted with it, same with his laptop.

He sets both suitcases, and the carry-on he would take to Scotland tomorrow when he and Merlin go to fix all this, if it's fixable, next to the door. If it's not fixable, at least he is ready to leave, and if it is, it will only take a few minutes to unpack. Best to prepare for the worst so when the best happens it's a pleasant surpise. 

Eggsy wishes JB wasn’t staying with Daisy and his mum right now. He could use a cuddle and a cuppa. Taking a deep breath, Eggsy goes back up stairs to get ready for his date tonight. He would be in and out, without hopefully, having to be in and out of Carlita. Lovely bird, but he doubted he could get it up after all of this fucking mess.

His fucking _life_.

—————

**Two weeks earlier**

“Eggsy, to my office. In your own time, but quite quickly.” Merlin’s voice comes through Eggsy’s glasses.

“Now? Come on, Rox and me are playing _Mario Kart_ and she’s kicking my arse, she is. Let me get a bit of my own back, yeah?” Eggsy was standing up, moving his body to and fro as if that would give Yoshi the added punch he needed to win.

Merlin lets out a long-suffering sigh. “You have thirty minutes and then I expect you in my office.”

Forty minutes later Eggsy is knocking on Merlin’s door.

“Come in, Eggsy. I see your boyfriend has done wonders for your already touchy punctuality.”

Eggsy at least has the decency to look a little sheepish. “What’s all this about then?”

“Last week, I saw the man traveling with Harry, Dalton Lindsford, talking to the brother of a man Kingsman took out a few years ago. The brother styled himself a hacker and was selling information retrieval viruses to terrorist cells. He was a little below our level of scrutiny but he found himself at a terrorist headquaters at the same time we were. He got caught in the crossfire.”

“So, this guy’s brother is probably right pissed with Kingsman?”

“Yes, I would think so. The problem is, I don’t know if it was just a chance meeting or if there is more to it. I only saw the two of them together because of Harry’s glasses feed, and he hasn’t shown up in any other feeds I have gotten, or on any surveillance.”

Eggsy slumps forward in his chair. “Great, so what can I do?”

“Next week there’s going to be a social gathering for local Kingsman donors, a bit like what Harry is doing now.”

“Right. So, I pop on my suit and go twist a few silver spoons to see what falls out?”

“Close, Lindsford’s daughter is going to be at the party. I need you to get into her home that she shares with her father, and get this,” Merlin holds up a small USB, “into his computer. I need to be able to hack into it to sift through his files and emails.”

“A honeypot?" Eggsy starts as Merlin fixes him with a look, “I don’t mind it, but I’ve got to tell Harry about it.”

“We can’t Eggsy. If he knows that Lindsford may be up to something he will hare off on his own investigation and blow the whole thing.”

“Bruv, he is a bit more subtle than that.” 

“Harry likes to think he’s subtle, but we aren’t dealing with some clueless mark. Lindsford and his family have been involved with Kingsman for a long time. Two of the family members were even agents, Bors III and Beaumains IV I think, so he could tell if Harry got all chatty with him out of the blue. Especially since Harry can’t stand him.”

“So you want me to do a honeypot for a mission that Harry knows nothing about? It’s not the sex that I mind, it’s keeping Harry in the dark.” 

“Harry has to kept in the dark because Harry was the lead agent on the mission that killed Shade’s brother. If Shade is gunning for anyone, it will be Harry. Besides, by the time he gets home, the mission will be over and we can tell him all about it. Trust me, lad.”

—————

In Eggsy’s mind, the night is a success. He easily charms Lindsford, playing the role of a grateful chav turned Kingsman still suitably awed by his betters. And when Lindsford and his cronies went to some upscale brothel, Eggsy took Carlita upstairs and shagged her silly. Once she was sleeping, he snuck out to find Lindsford’s office.

“Alright, Merlin, I am setting up the data transfer now.”

Eggsy turns as the office door opens.

“What in the fuck are you doing in here, boy?” Lindsford asks, steel lacing his voice.

“Oh, I was just trying to check my email.” Eggsy says lamely, completely caught off guard.

“Your fucking email, Gwaine?” Merlin growls through the comms. “Fucking Christ. I am trying to figure out an extraction. I don’t even know how he came back without me seeing him.”

Lindsford takes a step towards him, and Eggsy steps back instinctively, trying to put his back to the wall. Instead it backs right into someone else. Carlita stands behind him, and as he turns to her he feels a needle slip into his neck.

“Night, night, lover.”

—————

“Bors, Lancelot, Percival to my office now.” Merlin sends out over the Kingsman grounds. A few minutes later the three of them file in, Lancelot in her gym clothes, Percival in his trademark sharp black suit, and Bors in a boiler suit and smelling like gunpowder. Merlin pointedly does not fucking ask.

“We have a slight situation. A few weeks ago I became aware of a threat to Kingsman, one that could involve the man who was traveling with Arthur. I sent Gwaine on what was supposed to be a simple honeypot to get some information, but Arthur came home early unbeknownst to any of us, saw what he thought was Gwaine being a cheat, fucked off to Scotland, and now Gwaine has gone dark while amid said honeypot. Long story short, too late, we have lost Arthur and Gwaine.”

“Good, let’s go get them.” Lancelot turns and starts out the door.

“No, _I am_ going to get Arthur. Percival will be in charge of Kingsman until I get back with Arthur, which I think will take ten hours at the outside. Morgana and the rest of the Sisters will be on the comms. Lancelot and Bors will survey the house where we know Gwaine was last. You two go get ready and the Sisters will get you kitted up. They will also keep me informed.”

Merlin glares at Bors.

Bors was someone you could take home to your mum the first time and she would plan the wedding before tea he finished his tea He is an extremely handsome, but not startling so, man in his late thirties, who manages to look like a handsome model and, in Lancelot’s words, a mild mannered “DILF.” Whatever that means. And he also caused at least two explosions on every single mission he had. Merlin has often wondered if the man masturbates with hand grenades.

“This still needs to stay underneath the radar, so Bors, _do not blowing any-fucking-thing up_. Understood?”

Bors bats his eyes at Merlin. “Would I ever?”

—————

Merlin stands in front of the door of the hotel room he finally found Harry in. It is a disgusting place that offers pay by the hour rooms and is so dirty Merlin was sure the only way to clean it up would be to torch it and start fresh. He may mention it to Bors.  
He raises his hand and knocks.

“Fuck off.” Harry slurs from the other side. Merlin had expected that, and it was probably a good thing. It meant that while Harry will most likely attack as soon as he opens the door, it also means that he will be more easily subdued.

Merlin knocks again.

“Fuck off  I said,” Harry says, yelling now.

 _And here we go_ , Merlin thinks as he knocks for a third time.

The door flies open. “I said fuck…” Harry stops. Looks at Merlin blearily. Blinks once. And swings. Merlin lets him get one punch in before he pushes Harry into the room.

“Now, that that is out of the way, shall we talk?” Merlin asks, rubbing his jaw. “Though not bad for a drunk old man.”

Apparently, Harry thinks not because he swings again, a punch Merlin easily catches and uses Harry’s own momentum to twist it up and around behind his back, and pushes him face down on the bed.

“Again, you fucking child, shall we talk about this or shall I embarrass you some more?” Merlin says into Harry’s ear. Harry struggles and Merlin pulls his arm tighter.

“Get the fuck off me, you piece of shit. I told you to leave me alone. Could you not even do that?” Harry slurs into the mattress. “Or shall I come back and watch Gwaine swan about with his new girlfriend, while both of you chuckle behind your hands.”

“No one is chuckling at anything right now, you old fool. He wasn’t cheating on you. It was for a fucking mission. You just caught the arse end of it when you came home four days early.”

“Bullshit, I’m fucking Arthur if you haven’t forgotten. I know all the current missions, I certainly didn’t know about Gwaine chatting up some tart in spangles.” Harry spits back.

“Well you didn’t know about this one. And now you’re coming back with me. Can I let you up, or will you try to punch me again?” Merlin eases his body weight up a little, and as soon as he does, Harry takes advantage of it and throws him to the floor.

Harry stands over Merlin, reaching down to grab the front of his jumper. “And why the fuck should I do that?”

“Because we've lost him.”

—————

Eggsy comes to tied to a chair wearing nothing but his shirt and boxers. His suit and shoes are gone, along with the tracker device that was in the sole. Eggsy sighs. He does a quick body check. Everything seems to be working properly. A _lright,_ he thinks, _I can work with this_.

He tests his bindings and realizes he can’t even move his hands or his legs. Even the chair is bolted to the floor.

“Hey! What’s a bruv got to do for a glass of water in this fucking place?” Eggsy yells.

The door opens and in walks Lindsford, still dressed in his suit he was wearing earlier in the evening.

“Ah, good, you’re awake. I trust you slept well? I say well, I’m sure it was good enough for the circumstances.” He clasps his hands behind his back and smiles, looking for all the world like he and Eggsy were just two blokes passing the time.

“Yeah, bruv, it was great. Now how about letting me out of this, yeah? Before shit really goes bad for you.” Eggsy glances down at the chair and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, my dear boy.” Eggsy flinches at the endearment Harry always used. “I am afraid I can’t do that. We need you. But you can make this a little easier on yourself by telling me where Harry Hart is. He left town the same night we got back to London, and no one seems to be able to find him. My associate is just dying to meet him.” More smiles.

“I don’t know where Harry is, he fucked off as soon as he saw me chatting up your daughter.”

“Ah, yes. My daughter.” Lindsford walks over to him, his hands still behind his back. “Yes, I do have a little something to say about you putting your filthy hands on her.” Lindsford’s hand comes out from behind him holding a knife which he plunges it into Eggsy’s right shoulder. 

“God, fuck!!” Eggsy is breathing hard from the pain shooting through him. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, she was a lousy fucking lay.”

“Please, keep talking. You’re making this,” Lindsford twists the knife that was still inside of Eggsy, “so much more fun.” He pulls the knife out, wiping it Eggsy’s thigh. “Now, I ask you again. Where is Harry Hart?”

“I fucking told you, I don’t know… god fucking dammit!” Eggsy yells as the knife slices into the meat of his thigh. “Fuck.”

“This is getting us no where. I’ll let you sit here and bleed on yourself. Maybe you’ll have something for us later.”

Lindsford turns and walks back to the door, “Actually on second thought, we don’t have time to play this game. I’ll send in some friends to keep you company. You can let them know when you’re ready to talk.”

Three men enter the room as Lindsford walks out. “Show our friend here some hospitality.”

Eggsy doesn’t scream till the second round.

—————

Merlin and Harry arrive back at the manor well under the expected ten hours. Harry is back in his suit, sober, and is a pillar of fuming, tightly reined anger. He has not spoken to Merlin since Merlin had filled him in on the plane unless needed.

He is mad at everyone it seems. Merlin for keeping him in the dark about a threat against Kingsman, Eggsy for giving voice to the fears he had harbored about their relationship since day one, and himself for running off without giving anyone a single moment to explain.

When they get to Merlin’s office they find Percival, Bors, and Lancelot already waiting for them.

“Good, so what have we got? Anything?” Merlin asks, looking around expectantly.

Percival speaks first. “Nothing. No communication from Lindsford, nothing off of Gwaine’s tracker, and nothing of any use was found at the house.”

“Nothing?” Merlin asks.

“No,” Lancelot shakes her head, ponytail bouncing. “It was clean. Had I not known they were just there last night, I would have swore that no one had been there in weeks.”

Merlin opens his mouth to say something when one of the screens beeps at him. A new email had just come in, subject line _Gwaine Sends His Greetings_. Merlin clicks on the attachment. A video plays.

“Ah, yes, hello Kingsman.” Lindsford says on the screen. “By now you will have figured out that I have one of your agents, if you can call him that. Really, letting a dirty street rat into Kingsman, what will the donors say about that? But, enough about management choices right now. I would like to introduce my associate, Mr. Shade,” the camera pans left and shows an attractive, smartly dressed man with the pale complexion of London and ice blue eyes. “He doesn’t say much, but he is intensely interested in making the acquaintance of our mutual friend, Mr. Harry Hart. Harry was instrumental in causing the death of Mr. Shade’s brother, and he would ever so much like to discuss that with him, up close.

"Now, before you think we come to this empty handed, we do have a gift for you.” The camera pans over again, this time to the right, showing Eggsy. Both eyes are swollen shut, his lip is split, and bruises completely cover his torso. He is bleeding from stab wounds on his shoulder and thigh, and his breath is shallow. Lancelot gasps before she can stop herself. Harry makes no sound at all.

“Now we are all gentleman here, well except for him, so I propose a little trade. Your gutter filth for Mr. Hart. He will come alone, and once we see him, we will transmit the coordinates for this one to you. If he doesn’t come, or he comes with anyone else Mr. Shade will have his discussion with the boy instead. 

"If, by some chance, Harry is watching this now, he already knows where we are. If he isn’t because you don’t even know where he is, I suggest you find him quickly. You have four hours before Gwaine takes Hart’s place.” The video ends.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bors starts before he slumps over in his seat. At the same time Merlin registers the _snick snick_ of more two darts flying through the air, and sees Percival and Lancelot follow suit. He rises up turning towards Harry just in time to see Harry’s fist coming at him.

“Needs must.” Harry says and Merlin hits the floor.

—————

Harry speeds down the open road heading away from the manor. Lindsford said Harry would know where they were, and Harry did. Of course he did. Before Lindsford became a complete twat he and Harry were boyhood friends. Harry recognized the room they were in instantly, the manor house of Lindsford’s aunt where they used to play together.

Harry regrets darting his own agents, and possibly, a little, punching Merlin, again. But not too much. He is still righteously pissed at the man for thinking he would compromise an investigation into Lindsford. An investigation that not only cost him his relationship, but could now cost Eggsy his life.

A few minutes later he is pulling off the road about a mile away from the house. He arms himself with guns, grenades, and a Rainmaker, he approaches to the house, keeping to shadows.

Harry moves through the house killing anyone that even comes into his line of sight. It is like the Church all over again only this time, only now instead of some mindless killing haze gripping him, he is fully cognizant of every single kill. His anger and his need to see Eggsy safe propels him through body after body. He feels none of the impact of the bullets against his suit, none of the hits from the ineffectual punches thrown his way. No one makes it past him.

Harry is surprised when he makes it to the room where he is sure they have Eggsy. It was too quick, and his need for vengeance is far from quenched. He shrugs his shoulders once, letting the bullets fall from his suit, straightens his cuffs, and walks through the door leading with his gun.

“Ah, Harry. So glad you could join us.” Lindsford claps his hands together.

“A gentleman always comes when invited.” Harry immediately seeks out Eggsy who whimpers when he hears Harry’s voice.

“A gentleman. Quite.” Shade mutters from his seat in the corner. “Tell me Mr. Hart, do gentleman kill innocent men? Or fuck rent boys half their age? Because I am afraid that if you think they do, you and I have a different definition of the word.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Harry says, rolling his eyes, “Let’s just get on with this shall we?”

“Of course, Harry. Of course. Now, if you would be so kind as to disarm and hand all your weapons to the man behind you.”

Harry slowly pulls out his guns and lighters, handing them over.

“Wonderful, so cooperative. Now, take off your suit and shoes. You may leave your shirt on and your pants. Must preserve some modesty, mustn’t we?”

“If you wanted a show Lindsford, I would have given you one before now.” Harry quips with a razor smile, trying not to display his worry about being completely disarmed. He did not plan on this, but then again most men he went after are not as intimately acquainted to Kingsman as Dalton is. A breeze coming through the open window chilled the nervous sweat that was breaking out all over his body.

“I’ll remember that Harry, perhaps Xander here will let me have some time with you as well. After all, I never repaid you for screwing my girlfriend all those years ago.”

Harry finishes disrobing and stands in front of the men wearing nothing but his pants and socks. “Perfect, now stand still while we put these restraints on you, and then we can all go for a little ride.”

“Send the coordinates to Kingsman for Gwaine. I abided by your terms, now you do the same.” Harry looks over at Eggsy, who has gone silent.

“We will take care of the boy right now. Take him to the car.” Lindsford orders. The goon behind him pulls Harry out into the hall. As the door shuts Harry hears two distinct shots ring out and the heavy sound of a body hitting the floor.

_No._

—————

Merlin wakes with a sore jaw and a lump on the back of his head from where he hit the floor. _I am going to kill that fucker_ , is his first thought. The next was _Shit._ He stands up quickly and shakes his head to clear it, which does fuck all but make it hurt worse.

He moves around the room waking up Percival, Bors, and Lancelot. “Wake up. Our esteemed Arthur has taken off again, and again, it falls on us to make sure the sorry shit doesn’t get Gwaine, and himself, killed.”

“Darts? He took all three of out with darts and punched you before you even noticed?” Bors asks, a little incredulous.

“Our current Arthur, and former Galahad, is the best agent in Kingsman’s recent history. So, yes, it’s not surprising he got the drop on all of us.”

“Sure as fuck surprised me.” Bors says, rubbing his neck where the dart went in. “I never knew those things hurt.”

"When you’re done whining about it, we need to go after Arthur. He obviously has gotten it in his head that it would be an excellent idea to go to some arsehole’s house and save our Gwaine by himself."

“How are we going to find him?” Lancelot asks. “The video said Harry would know where Gwaine is. But I don’t think Arthur left us a map before he left.”

“No, lass, he did not, but while he was getting dressed back in Scotland, I slipped a bio-tracker into the scotch he was drinking. So unless he’s taken a shit in the last hour, we know exactly where he is.

"Percival, get the helicopter ready. Bors and Lancelot, go get us some weapons, I am going to get the tracker program loaded up on my tablet and met everyone out there in ten minutes. No later. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” All three of them answer and move out of the room.

 _After this shit storm settles I am taking a fucking holiday_ , Merlin thinks as he loads his tablet.

The tracker works beautifully and they are able to follow Harry right to the manor. Setting the helicopter down in an adjacent field, they proceed to the manor on foot, finding Harry’s car empty, and the perimeter guards dead.

They circle around the building until they hear voices coming through an open window. Merlin holds up his fist to halt everyone and they quietly move to his side flanking the window. Using a very small fiber optic camera, he looks in to see Eggsy still tied to the chair, Harry half-naked, and three men in the room. Merlin quickly texts Morgana to let her know to get a med team en route immediately, but to keep them back until he gives the word. Communicating through combat sign language, Merlin quickly informs the rest of them of his plan, which basically was, jump in, kill everyone that is not theirs when he gives the signal.  
Basic Kingsman protocol really.

Merlin sees their chance when he hears Harry being removed from the room. Just as Harry is pulled from the room, he gives his signal. Lancelot and Percival vault in through the open window, shooting Shade and Lindsford. Their bodies hit the floor instantly. Merlin and Bors follow suit, and Merlin runs to check on Eggsy while the rest of them keep their guns trained on the window and the door.

Merlin finds a pulse, a faint one, when he presses his fingers to Eggsy’s neck. Eggsy flinches away and whimpers.

“Hush, it's me. We’ve got you.” Merlin whispers.

“Merlin? I heard…” Eggsy stops to take a breath, “Harry?”

“Yes, he’s here. We’re going to go get him as soon as we see to you.”

“No, him. Get him.” Eggsy, tries to look at Merlin but can’t with both eyes almost swollen shut. “Please, Merlin.”

“Bors, Percival, go see if you can locate our wayward king.”

Just as they move forward to the door, Harry bursts through it, looking as feral with his hands cuffed behind him and blood on his face.

—————

When Harry had heard those two shots, time stopped for him. In a split second he realized that Eggsy was dead, he was about to be dead, and no one was coming for either of them. And Harry, after a few days of drinking, sobbing, and little sleep, after some of the most terrible emotional pain he had ever felt, after all of this, Harry finally snapped. He threw his head back into the man’s face that was holding him, knocking his head back into the wall. Within the instant the man let go of Harry’s arm, Harry turned and latched on to the man’s throat, ripping open his jugular with his teeth.

Harry spit out the flesh he had between his teeth and threw himself bodily into the door. All he registered when it opened was two figures in black pointing guns at him and one bending over Eggsy’s body. _His body_. Not even thinking about the fact that his hands are still tied, Harry lunges.

“Arthur, for god’s sake, it’s me.” Merlin catches Harry by the shoulders and shook him. Nothing registered in Harry’s eyes. “HARRY!”

Harry kicks out with his long legs, trying to take the person holding him to the floor. He feels a moment of triumph when he succeeds, the man who had been leaning over Eggsy falls backwards as his legs go out, bringing Harry with him. He raises his head up, intending on bringing his forehead down onto his captors face when something hits him in the back of the neck.

Darkness.

Merlin looks at Harry’s slumped form on top of him and then at Lancelot who is lowering her watch.

“You just darted our Arthur. Good Christ, you’re almost as bad as he is.” Merlin says, not without admiration.

“Turn about is fair play my mother always said.” Lancelot says with a smile. Merlin blinks at Percival.

Percival shivers. “My sister always believed in revenge. She is terrifying.”

—————

Harry wakes up in medical feeling like he had just been hit by a lorry. For a moment he is confused, blinking at his surroundings. Then it hits him, images of everything, Eggsy with the girl, the nameless man he fucked, Merlin showing up and telling him about the mission, Eggsy tied to a chair and bleeding.

 _Eggsy_.

He sits up and immediately disconnects himself from the machines he is connected to. He is up and out of the bed, pulling on the robe that had been laying on the chair when the door opens.

“Stop right there, Harry.” Merlin says as he walks in. “Dr. Phillips has recommended at least one more day of rest and fluids before she will even conceive of letting you out.”

“Arthur. You haven’t earned the right to use my name yet. Don’t think I’ve forgotten. I want to see his body.”

“Even after I explained what was going on, you’re still pissed about all of this? Eggsy never cheated on you, is was for a fucking mission.”

“I want to see his body.”

“There is no body to see, because Eggsy isn’t dead.”

Harry’s knees give out in relief and he sits down on the bed.

“Of course he may wishes he was when he wakes up.” Merlin says dryly.

“How bad is it?” Harry asks, remembering how Eggsy looked in that room.

“He was beaten badly, so he has some deep bruising, a little internal bleeding, one cracked rib, two knife wounds that thankfully did not hit anything major, his shoulders were dislocated from him struggling against the ropes, and bruising around the neck. His eyes are almost swollen shut, and his nose is broke, again. The doctors are keeping him sedated for the next few days to keep him motionless while the majority of the healing happens. But he will heal, and they think it will be a full recovery.”

“Shade and Lindsford?”

“Everyone in that house is dead and the place has been cleaned.”

“Good, I want to see him. Now.” Harry says, standing up again.

“No, Har…” Merlin rolls his eyes. “Arthur, what you’re going to do is lay in the bed, and tomorrow, when you’re released you can see him. And sit quietly with him. The doctors expect to wake him up in two days.”

“I will do as I please.” Harry strides over to Merlin and stands toe to toe with him.

“Until you are cleared by Medical, I am acting Arthur. So no, you will do as _I_ please. And right now, you sitting in this fucking room and resting pleases me. And I swear to the gods Arthur, if you try to punch me, I will fight back, and you will be here another fucking week at least.”

Merlin widens his stance.

Harry shifts his weight slightly.

“Try me, I really wish you would, because Christ knows you need some more sense knocked into your fucking head.”

Harry turns and sits back down on the bed, making a show of getting comfortable.

“Good, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Harry waits until nightfall and slips out of his room, down the hall, and into Eggsy’s. His heart stops for a moment when he sees the too still form on the bed. Harry knows, of course he knows, how Eggsy had suffered, but seeing the dark bruises covering his face and torso, where he could actually see his torso from the bandaging, standing out against the start white sheets, somehow makes it all the worse.

Harry sits down next to Eggsy’s bed, takes his hand and thinks. He thinks about their relationship, how he didn’t even know he was lonely, so desperately lonely, until Eggsy was there filling up the space. There was no quiet when Eggsy was around, even when sleeping the boy snored, talked in his sleep, and on one memorable occasion, giggled so hard from something he was dreaming, he made Harry laugh till he was crying.

Harry thinks about the mornings shared, dinners cooked, nights and afternoons, making love (or fucking, depending on the mood) all over Harry’s house to the point where Harry could touch any flat surface within it and reminisce on at least three different positions he had folded Eggsy into on it.

Then Harry thinks about the past week. Of the despair he fell into when he thought he had lost all of that. Nothing in all of his fifty four years had hurt him like seeing Eggsy with someone else, hearing the words Eggsy said. It doesn’t matter if it was for a mission, _after all, every lie is better when there is a kernel of truth in it’s center_. Did Eggsy really see him as an old man who could not satisfy him? Who was nothing but a wallet and a promotion?

Harry was wise enough to know that he would never keep someone as young a beautiful as Eggsy, but he had hoped for just a little more time to bask in Eggsy’s light, just a little more. But after seeing what Eggsy’s loss did to him, he could not afford to make the same mistake twice. Mission or no, cheating or no, he could not afford to have anyone have his heart the way Eggsy did, not again.

When Eggsy woke up, it would be business as usual. He would be Arthur, and Eggsy would be Gwaine. And soon enough Eggsy would find someone more suitable than an old man to tie himself to. He would come to see Harry as a friend hopefully, once the initial awkwardness faded, or at the very least, a colleague. And Harry, Harry would hold the memories of their year _close_ to his heart as both a balm and a painful reminder of how weak love can make you.

But until then, he would sit here and hold Eggsy’s hand.

—————

True to their word, the doctors come to wake Eggsy two days later. Harry spent the night before by Eggsy’s bedside, holding his hand and telling him how much he loved him, how much he would cherish their time together, and how he hoped he would understand and forgive him.

When he hears the doctors coming up the hall, he presses one more kiss to Eggsy’s knuckles, places his hand back on the bed, and stands. He walks out the door as they come in, nodding at them. As the door closes, he straightens his cuffs and taps his glasses.

“Merlin here.”

“They are waking Gwaine up now. I would suggest that you or Lancelot come down so he has someone familiar with him.” Harry says.

“You daft sod, neither I or Lancelot is who he wants there.”

“I have business to attend to. You can come down here or you can not.”

“Fine.”

“I want you to take that holiday you’ve been moaning about. And take Percival with you. If I have to look at you two making calf’s eyes at each other any longer, I may gouge my good eye out. When you get back, we can get pissed, possibly hit each other some more, and put this shit behind us. Until then, stay out of my sight. Let Gwaine know that I will see him only when he is released for duty. His things have been moved to his flat, so he has a place to go once he is released, and his mother knows she will need to help him while he recovers.”

Merlin’s sigh is audible. “Yes, sir.”

Merlin is in Eggsy’s room a few minutes later and sits quietly while Eggsy slowly came back around.

“Merlin? Is that you, bruv?” Eggsy croaks. “Can I have some water?”

“Eggsy, I swear to god, if you keep calling me that I will make sure your kit for your next mission has nothing but bubblegum and a bowling ball. You can have ice chips. Open up.” Merlin slides one between his lips.

“So, where’s Harry? You told him about the mission, yeah? He knows that it was all act right? That I weren’t never ever cheating on him.”

Merlin looks at Eggsy a little sadly. “I did, but the complete arsehole that is Harry Hart doesn’t give a toss. He is still not speaking to me, and he told me to tell you…” Merlin stops and takes a deep breath.

“Tell me what?” Eggsy is looking at him, his still bruised eyes wet.

Merlin takes a deep breath and looks away from Eggsy before he speaks. 

“That you are not to see him until you are cleared for duty. Your things are at your own flat, where you will go when you are released. Your mother will be there to help you until they clear you for active duty.”

“So after all that, after he knows it weren’t nothing but a fucking mission, he’s still putting me out? All done, thanks for the laughs Eggsy, my boy. All of that, Merlin, so I wouldn’t lose him again. But the jokes on the me ain’t it? Because I still fucking lost him.” 

“Eggsy, I’m sure when this…”

“No, no it won’t, it won’t ever be the same. Because he’s already gone. At least when he was ‘dead’ I didn’t have to see him, yeah? But now I am going to have to look at him every fucking day and pretend I am not dying a little.” Tears fall down Eggsy’s face. “Just give me a little time alone, yeah Merlin? I just need to be alone.”

Merlin lays Eggsy’s new glasses on the table next to his bed. “If you need anything, ping me on the glasses. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Eggsy waits to Merlin leaves before he sobs in earnest, which makes the pain his ribs even worse, which makes him cry even harder. He reaches up to his morphine drip and turns it up, praying that the drugs take him under and keep him under. 

One floor above, Harry leaves the office early, taking a Kingsman cab back to his home in the Mews. There he gets so sloshed that he passes out on the floor of the loo where he was hugging Mr. Pickle’s taxidermied body. He still loves Eggsy, he tells Mr. Pickles, he still loves him so fucking much.

—————

Two weeks later Merlin returns from holiday with a sore body, a sunburned head, and a smug Percival. He spends the day putting the fear of god back into his minions, who actually performed rather well, not that he’d tell them that, and when the manor clears out for the night, he heads to Arthur’s office, a bottle of scotch in each hand.

“Right. Shall we get this over with?” he asks Harry with a cock of his eyebrow.

“Might as well. Telly is crap tonight.” Harry answers, grabbing two glasses.

They walk side by side down to one of the sparring rooms. This isn’t the first time they have done this and they’ve learned that they will definitely thank themselves for the padded floors of the room come morning.

It goes as planned. They drink a few, discussing light topics such as Merlin’s holiday, Harry’s new curtains, the weather (that takes the least amount of time, it is London after all). When they run out of things to blather on about, Merlin stands up, a bit unsteadily, cracks his neck, and his knuckles. He removes his jumper ( _it’s fucking cashmere, Harry_ ) and rolls his shoulders. Harry stands as well, removing his jacket.

“Well, the first one is yours, Harry. Make it count.”

“Right.” And Harry throws his first punch.

They punch and yell and punch and yell until they lay side by side on the mats, bleeding. And then they laugh. And drink. And by three in the morning they are walking arm and arm towards medical, singing bawdy Scottish drinking songs. They pass out while the nurses stitch them up.

Merlin wakes in the morning to find a note and a glass of water on the table next to him.

_I’ve missed you, you ugly bastard. –H_

And just like that things are back to normal.

—————

Unfortunately, it is not as easy for Eggsy. Medical releases him after week and lets him go home. He has three more weeks before they will consider releasing him for active duty. A Kingsman cab takes him back his flat where his mum is waiting for him with Daisy and JB.

He wants nothing more than to hold JB and Daisy tight to him but his ribs won’t allow that quite yet. So he settles for kissing Daisy’s head while she sits in his mum’s arms.

“Hey there little flower, you’re looking a pretty as ever.” Eggsy smiles, and even sort of means it.

Daisy reaches up to touch his face. “Eggy, owie?”

“Yeah, baby girl, Eggsy’s got an owie, but me and you are going to stay with him for a few days and help him feel better, yeah?” His mum says, bouncing her slightly on her hip.

“You don’t have to stay mum, I got this.”

“You got nothing of the sort, Eggs. Although I don’t see why Harry isn’t…”

Eggsy stops her. “No mum, you don’t talk about Harry. Not now.”

His mum stops talking, her eyes flicking around his face. Whatever she sees tells her he means it because she just sighs, and tells him to get upstairs with JB, he can have a lie down, take his meds, and she’ll wake him for dinner. She’s making chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese for Daisy, but he can eat some too. He smiles, she may say it’s for Daisy, but he knows that she knows it’s his favorite comfort food.

He goes upstairs with his meds and some juice, JB trailing right behind. As he shakes out the painkillers, he accidentally on purpose adds one more than he’s supposed to. Just this once.

Just this once turns out to be a whole of a hell a lot more. Within a few days of his mum leaving, he is spending his days in a pill haze, sobbing all over poor JB, or sleeping. For two weeks he barely remembers to eat and only showers because he doesn’t want his wounds to get infected and keep him out of the field longer. One day he realizes that he has taken almost all the prescription painkillers that they gave him and he isn’t even in that much pain anymore. In a moment of clarity he upturns the rest of the pills into the toilet and flushes them. He then spends the next few days of his medical leave going through painkiller withdrawals, complete with headaches, muscle aches, and a mood so foul that even JB won’t come near him.

Returning the active duty isn’t much better. On his first day back, he reports to Arthur, as is customary, to tell him he is available for fieldwork again. Arthur nods once and returns to his paperwork.

“Harry,” Eggsy tries.

“Agent Gwaine, within these walls you will refer to me as Arthur. I am your boss and you are my agent, and we will conduct ourselves as such. Do I make myself clear?” Harry looks him in the eyes as he says this, and it's all Eggsy can do not to flinch when he sees how flat they are.

Eggsy retreats to his posh accent. “Crystal, Arthur, sir.”

“Good, dismissed.”

As Eggsy walks back to Merlin’s office to see if the man has anything available because he needs to get out of here _right fucking now_ he decides that if an agent is what Harry, no Arthur now, wants, then that is exactly what he is going to get.

And he does. Eggsy is sheer perfection on missions. He takes everything and anything thrown at him. Honeypots, assassinations, simple follow and grabs. His smile is cheeky, his jokes are inappropriate, and when he sits at the table his is cool and collected. He never calls Arthur Harry, never let’s his eyes linger on those slim hips and broad shoulders, and more than anything else, he never ever cries.

At least where anyone can see him.

He and Rox take his mates on epic pub crawls on off nights, dancing and laughing and drinking until they puke. Well, Roxy pukes, and then threatens to cut his bollocks off if he ever mentions it. He knows she’d do it too before he even knew what happened, she is, besides his own mum, the most terrifying woman he knows.

She tries broaching the subject once. “You know you can talk to me right, Eggs? I’m your best friend, and I love you.”

“Roxy, you are the best mate a bruv could ask for, swear down, but ain’t nothing to talk about. It was fun while it lasted.” Eggsy smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Eggs…”

“No, Eggs to it. Now come on, let’s dance. That cute bird over there has been eyeing you up all night. Let’s show her how you move.” Roxy allows herself to be pulled out on the dance floor, and even goes home with that girl, pretending to believe that Eggsy is just fine.

Eggsy so convincing that Merlin is startled when it all comes to a head two months later. He comes in to work, hot tea in hand, already mentally writing a to do list for the day, and finds Eggsy sitting in his office.

“Gwaine, to what do I owe the pleasure?” As he gets closer, he can detect a faint scent of vodka coming off of Eggsy. Whether it’s from the night before, or he’s already drunk, Merlin isn’t sure.

“I can’t do this anymore, Merlin.” Eggsy says, looking up with red-rimmed eyes. “I can’t keep seeing him every day and pretending that I’m not fucking dying inside. I’m done.”

“Whoa, lad. Done with what? With Kingsman?” Merlin’s mind is racing. You don’t just quit Kingsman, he doesn’t even know the protocol for this.

“No. Yes. Sort of I guess. I’ve been talking with Whiskey from Statesman, and he says I could come over there for a while. Work for them, get my head on straight.”

“Have you talked with Arthur about this?”

“No, you know he won’t talk to me. He barely even looks at me. I was just hoping you could get me the paperwork and give it to him to sign. He won't miss me anyways.”

Merlin feels like he is caught between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, it’s a good idea. Hopefully some time apart will allow Eggsy some space and incentive for Harry to pull his head out his arse. On the other hand, it would be a wrench to lose Eggsy, one of their finest agents.

“How about this, I’ll get the paperwork together, but we will classify it as a temporary transfer. Six months, and if you still want to stay after that we can finalize it?”

“You’re the guv, Merlin. I just need to be able to think straight again. I need to be able to go to sleep and not wake up reaching for him.” 

Merlin has the paperwork together and Eggsy’s signature on it by the end of the day. He gathers it up with some other papers that need Arthur’s signature and heads to his office. He finds Harry sitting at the desk with his head in his hands. His jacket is off, as well as his waistcoat, and his sleeves are pushed up to his elbows.

“Migraine?”

“Jesus fucking wept, my skull feels like it’s trying to come out of my skin,” Harry mutters.

“Unfortunately, I need signatures on these papers.” Merlin lays the paperwork down and goes to where Harry keeps his medicine and shakes out a couple pills.

“Fine, I’ll do it Monday morning.”

“No, you will not. These have to be signed today. Here take these with some…” Merlin watches as Harry snatches the pills out his hands and downs them with a swallow of scotch, “…water,” he finishes lamely.

Harry grabs the papers and signs without even looking at them.

“I feel I should tell you that Gwaine…”

“No, absolutely fucking not, Merlin. Not tonight. I am one step away from being homicidal, and whatever you need to tell me about Gwaine can wait until Monday. I am going home, getting completely pissed, and sleeping the weekend away.” Harry finishes signing everything and hands the papers back over. “Now, if you would be so kind as to get out.”

“Fine, don’t call me when you’ve fallen down the stairs and broken your hip, you old grump.”

“Fuck off,” Harry replies without heat.

Harry does exactly what he said he would do. He gets roaring drunk, and doesn’t fall or break his hip thank you very much, and spends the weekend pottering about. He thinks he may finally be getting over Eggsy. He can sleep without Eggsy’s hoodie that he “forgot” to give back when he moved Eggsy’s stuff out, and he no longer has to sit down and breathe slowly every time he finds one of JB’s toys hid under the couch or in the closet.

In fact he feels so good, he thinks he might even be able to talk with Merlin about whatever Eggsy needed when he returns to work Monday. Yes, he will, he thinks. He’s over it. He’s ok. Perhaps he will even try to rebuild some sort of friendship with Eggsy. Yes, Eggsy. He can even say his name now and not refer to him as Gwaine. He is inordinately pleased with himself.

All his good intentions go to shit first thing Monday morning. Tristan, while out on assignment, ran afoul of MI6, and one of their most notorious agents. He and Tristan had been gunning for the same mark, and this Bond fellow took quite the exception to the mark’s head exploding all over his bespoke suit before he even pulled his gun. The fist fight that followed was so truly epic that Merlin not only had the video feed from both Tristan’s glasses and the CCTV (before he wiped it) permanently transferred to their secure servers, but he was now petitioning to get Bond into Kingsman at least once to show them all some of those moves.

Luckily enough, Bond, ever the gentleman, helped Tristan pick himself up off the floor, and even commended him on his fighting skills, but M, the head of Six was furious. Harry spends the next few days in and out of meetings with the man trying to smooth things over and, because Merlin would not leave it alone, extending an invitation of a visit to the manor to Bond.

Eggsy is, for the first time in months, the absolute last thing on Harry’s mind.

—————

Eggsy’s week went a bit differently. He took it off to spend time with his mum and Daisy, and his mates. His mum, who knew about Kingsman, was told the truth, that he would go to Statesman for six months to help them with training, agent recruitment, and to run a few missions while they were short handed.

Well, partially the truth. Eggsy did not mention he had every intention of making it a semi-permanent move. His mum was even astute enough not to mention Harry and his distinct lack of presence in Eggsy’s life anymore. He didn’t know if it made him happy that his mom was so perceptive, or sad that she wasn’t surprised that the relationship had ended.

He spent time with JB who would stay with Daisy and his mum until he made his final decision.

His mates, Ryan and Jamal, were told that Kingsman was opening a tailor shop in the U.S. and Eggsy was being sent over to help train the tailors in the Kingsman style. They, of course knew it was a load of shit, but they were bruvs so they just clapped Eggsy on the back and told him to watch out for those American girls. Or boys, whichever.

On Friday morning he dressed in his finest suit, picked up his obscenely expensive suitcase, and went to the Kingsman hangar where the private jet was waiting to take him to Statesman. Roxy and Merlin were wafting for him.

He hugs Roxy first. “Alright there luv, you don’t need to be crying over me, yeah?” he tells her when he felt her shoulders shake.

“Fuck you Eggsy, I am not crying. It’s allergy season.” She hugs him tighter. “You don’t have to leave. Arthur or not I will go straight up to that office and kick his ass for you. I will. I shoot him with an amnesia dart and make him believe he gives etiquette lessons to single housewives.”

Eggsy pushes his lips against her hair. “Rox, it’s fine. It will be good for him and me. Give us some space, give me some time. And then I’ll come back, yeah?” He caught Merlin’s eyes. “Six months and I’ll come back with some sick new moves to show you.”

“You better. I love you, Eggs.”

“Love you, too.”

Eggsy disentangles himself from her and walks over to Merlin with his hand out. Merlin looks at his face, looks at his hand, and pulls him into a hug.

“Let’s get one thing straight lad, you ever tell anyone I hugged you and you’ll be getting the amnesia dart.”

“You’ll take care of him, yeah? Make sure he leaves that fucking office occasionally, and that he keeps his medical appointments, and all that shit old men like you two have to do?” Eggsy’s laugh was a little wet.

“I will.”

“He knows I’m leaving right?” Eggsy asks, pulling away from Merlin. He turns back towards the door of the hangar.

“He signed the paperwork, but I am not sure he looked at it. When I tried to bring it up he wouldn’t listen, but I sent him an email this week confirming it, so yes, I would think he knows.

“Right, right.” Eggsy’s head hangs a little on his shoulders. “Well, I guess that’s that then.” He shook himself, and when he looked up his trademark grin was back in place. “Well, off to show those yanks how it’s done.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Eggsy hugs them both once more and walks up the steps to the plane. Before he steps through the door, he takes one more look towards the entrance to the hangar, but there was no one there.

“Sir, are you ready?” The stewardess is looking at him.

Eggsy turns around and winks at the stewardess. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

—————

There was definitely something going on Harry decides. While he and Lancelot were never close, she seems to give him a distinctly icy shoulder whenever they interact. This morning, when he ran into her in the kitchen while fetching some tea, he had the very real feeling that she was about to throw hers in his face. Instead all he got was a nod and a clipped “Arthur,” before she turned on her heel and left.

He also notices the other agents giving him odd looks now and again. He is perplexed, no one has treated him like this since he and Eggsy had quietly split a few months ago.

Which, now that he thinks about it, Eggsy hasn’t been at a round table meeting since before that MI6 fiasco. Harry mentally rolls through the missions that were ongoing, trying to remember if Eggsy was out in the field, but comes up with nothing. Harry goes back to his office, sits down and touches his glasses.

“Merlin here.”

“Merlin, is Gwaine currently out on assignment?” Harry asks.

There is a brief pause. “No, Arthur, he is not.”

“Well, is he on leave, in medical, out buggering a princess, what?”

“What are you playing at, you know exactly where he is.”

“Merlin, if I knew I certainly wouldn’t be wasting my time talking to you, would I? Where is he?”

“Sweet fucking Christ. Check your email.”

“Or you could just tell me.” Harry says, becoming slightly worried. Certainly if something happened to the boy, he would have gotten more than a fucking email.

“No, you fool. You check your email. Merlin out.”

Merlin sits in his office, pulls out the bottle of whisky he keeps in the desk, pours himself two fingers, and downs it. He has about five minutes before Harry hits his door, maybe less.

His door flies open two minutes later. “What in the fuck is this? Eggsy goes to fucking Statesmen and I get a fucking email about it? You or him don’t have the goddamn decency to come and tell me to my face?” Harry’s face is flushed, his hair ruined from him putting his hands through it, and Merlin could see a small stain where he had spilled his tea down his shirt.

“You signed the paperwork for it, and when I tried to tell you about it you cut me off. Then you never mentioned it again, so I emailed you. It’s not like you could hear his name without losing your fucking shit all over anyone who had the audacity to mention it.

"As for Eggsy, he couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as you anymore. It was killing him. We were all just too fucking stupid to see it. So no, he didn’t come see to you. After how you’ve treated him after all of this, can you blame him?” Merlin is on his feet now, all but yelling into Harry’s face.

“You pushed him away even after you knew, you fucking knew,” Merlin jabs his finger into Harry’s chest, “all of it was for a fucking mission. You broke him, and yourself, over nothing, Harry. All because of your own wounded fucking pride. So, I’ll ask again, can you blame him for not coming to say goodbye?”

Harry collapses in a chair, all his anger leaving him. “He’s gone then? When?”

Merlin sits too. “Last Friday, and the last thing he did was look for you and ask me to take care of you for him. Like anyone can make the Great and Powerful Harry Fucking Hart do a goddamn thing he doesn’t want to do.”

“And for how long?” Harry asks, a bit afraid of the answer.

“He wanted a permanent transfer, but I talked him into six months with the option for a permanent one after. But if you ask me, he has already decided.”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly. I guess there is only one question then.”

“And what would that be?”

“What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

Harry did not know what the fuck he was going to do about it. He waves off Merlin’s offer of whiskey and went back to his office. He sits and drinks his own whiskey, it was finer stuff than what Merlin offered, the cheap bastard. He paces.

What was he going to do about it? On one hand, this was a clean break, one that could be just what he and Eggsy needed to rebuild any sort of nonromantic relationship. On the other, if Eggsy stays stateside, he might never see him again, a thought that makes his heart ache within his chest.

He paces.

Two hours later he is on a plane.

—————

Eggsy will later swear that the twenty four hours he just went without sleep while keeping Whiskey company on a stakeout is the reason he took a full minute to realize someone is in his apartment. He is pulling his gun just as the lamp switched on.

“Well Gwaine, I have to admit that I find myself a little disappointed. If I was an assassin, you’d already be dead.” Harry sits on the sofa, long legs impeccably crossed, looking lean, lethal, and beautiful in his coal black suit.

Eggsy lowers the gun. “Arthur.” His posh accent firmly in place, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Harry stands. “Eggsy…”

“No, you told me that you were my boss and I was your agent, and we were to conduct ourselves as such.” Eggsy says, anger he didn’t even know he had left in him rising to the surface. “Why are you here?”

Harry slumps a little. “I came to talk to you, if you will let me. Five minutes is all I ask.”

“Talk then.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and scrubs his face. “God, on the plane ride here I had this whole speech planned out, and now that you are in front of me, I fear I have forgotten all of it.”

Eggsy taps his watch. “Clocks ticking.’”

Harry sighs. “Fine. When I saw you with that woman and heard you say those things, it was all my worst fears about us come to life. When we first started our relationship I knew we couldn't last. How could someone as beautiful as you, so young and so energetic, want to be tied to an aging old spy like myself? However, because I was a selfish old fool, and so lonely, I went along with it and promised myself when the time came I would let you go and wish you well.

"But, I was fooling myself at best. I was half in love with you the minute I saw you outside that police station, even more so when you cried in my arms when I returned from Kentucky, even older and more broken than I was before. And then, on our first night together, I was lost. Lost in the feel of your skin against mine, in the way you said my name, lost completely in you. And then I knew I could never let you go, because you owned me, Eggsy, heart and soul.” Harry turns and looks out the window of the apartment.

“When you gave voice to those fears, and turned your back on me, the way my heart broke was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I hated myself for believing for a moment I could keep you and hated you for using that against me. And, being the coward that I am when it comes to anything resembling emotions, I ran to another country and drowned myself in my own misery.

"Even after Merlin came and explained everything to me, I was still angry, so, at you and him for lying to me, for keeping me out of the loop and allowing me to believe that what you said was true. Now, I realize that none of those things were happening, but my pride wouldn’t let me see that.” Harry turns back around, facing Eggsy.

“Even with that anger burning away inside of me, I could not let you pay the price for my mistake all those years ago, so I came after you intending either to kill Shade myself, or trade your life for mine. I sat there in that hospital room looking at you beaten and broken because of a mission to save me, and told myself that you would be better off without me. You are young and lovely, and you would have no problem finding someone more suitable than I, eventually we would find a middle ground, and regain a friendship. But mostly, I told myself that I could never ever feel that deep pain I felt when I thought you had betrayed me, I could never allow myself to become that weak and so easily hurt again. So, I pushed you away telling myself it was for your own good when it was really for what I thought was mine. And now, I am here because I can’t let you take a permanent position over here thinking that I hated you for something that was never your fault to begin with.”

Eggsy waits for a moment to make sure Harry has finished speaking. “So that’s it then? I’m just supposed to forgive you and what, throw myself into your arms?”

Harry smiles a little. “Well, I had hoped…”

Eggsy’s accent reverts to his normal one in his anger. “You hoped? Are you fucking kidding me? You throw me out of our home, our goddamned home, and then when you find out it was all for a fucking mission, that I would never, ever fucking cheat on you, you still refuse to speak to me. You make a decision that affects both of us without even talking with me, and you thought you could just come back and impress the chav with some pretty words and all? Well fuck you, Harry.”

“Eggsy.”

“No, I ain’t even fucking done yet. I loved you Harry,” Harry flinches at the past tense, “more that I even thought was even possible. I never cared about your fucking age, or your fucked up eye, or the fact that I would probably push you around in a wheel chair one of these days. You were my whole fucking world, and if you were to fucking stupid to realize that, you were the only one. For you to decide that I wasn’t worth the pain, or the risk, just means that you didn’t see me and worth anything at all. You think you were the only one who had fears Harry? How about me, yeah? How about me waiting for the day you rolled over and wondered why you had a gutter trash, ex-rent boy in bed with you? What about me waiting for the day you got sick of all the little looks we got from people on the street or when the snide comments all those posh fuckers you pal around with finally made you realize that I would never be good enough for you? I was scared too, but you know what? You were worth the fear, because I fucking loved you.” Eggsy breathes out once, twice, through his nose. “There now I’m done, and your fucking five minutes are up. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Eggsy, can we…” Harry’s eyes are bright, and Eggsy can see where tears have fallen down his face.

“I said get out Harry. I can’t look at you right now. I just fucking can’t.” Eggsy turns away from him, knowing that if he keeps looking his resolve will break.

Harry clears his throat. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card, placing it on the counter. “I will be at this hotel for the next forty eight hours. If you wish to speak to me, you can find me there. I will make no attempt to force my presence on you, and will instead leave it up to you. If you do not come, I will hope that when you return to London, whether for a visit, or to come back to Kingsman, we can meet as friends. Goodbye, Eggsy.”

Eggsy hears the click of the door shutting behind Harry, and when he knows he’s alone, he falls to the floor, hugging himself like a child, crying.

When he finally gets himself together, he forces himself to sleep for a few hours before he decides what to do about this whole fucking mess. As mad as he is, he thinks that his and Harry’s relationship deserves for him to decide once and for all how Harry is going to figure into his life. For a split second he thinks about calling Rox, getting her take on it, she is always the one he can count on to talk him out of something stupid. But no, this is something he has to decide on his own or always second-guess what decision he made. He loves Harry, he does and he never ever stopped, but how can he forgive him for destroying his life so completely without even talking to him about it?

Across town, Harry sits in his hotel room, a few bottles from the mini bar scattered around him. He told Eggsy he was a coward when it came to emotions and he wasn’t lying. He has been drowning them in alcohol for so fucking long he doesn’t even know how to deal with things sober. Christ, his best friend and he deal with arguments by drinking and then beating the shit out of each other.

He had hoped things would have gone better with Eggsy than the way they did. Harry had just assumed that Eggsy did not, could not, feel for him as he felt for Eggsy, and now his assumptions, again, have driven the wedge in deeper between them. Now the ball was in Eggsy’s court and he will either show up or he won’t. And if he doesn’t Harry will make the trip home, alone, knowing that his own idiocy had cost him the best and brightest thing he had ever had the fortune to claim as his own. Eggsy was more than he ever deserved and he prays that he is given just one more chance to prove that to him.

By the evening of the next day, Harry has resigned himself to the fact that Eggsy is not coming. It tears him in two, but he is really not surprised. He packs his things for preparation for his trip home and pretends that it is probably all for the best.

He hears a knock at the door, his heart leaps. He opens the door to see Eggsy standing there in his chav clothes, a sight Harry still finds equally arousing and horrifying at the same time.

“You going to invite me in?”

“Yes, Eggsy, of course. Please come in. Sit. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m good Harry. I just thought of a few more things I wanted to say before you left, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.” Harry tries his best to not be disappointed that he would leave, not he and Eggsy.

“So, I sat up thinking last night about everything you said, and everything I said, and how you’re a complete arsehole. I’m still angry Harry, and hurt. But I am going to ask you two questions, yeah? And I want honest answers.”

“Anything Eggsy, I swear, I will tell you anything.”

“One, do you still love me?”

“I don’t think I could love you any more than I do Eggsy. You said I was your entire world. Well, you are my universe, my absolute everything, I cannot fathom my life without you in it.”

“Ok, then. Two...”

“Yes?”

“Is it too late to throw myself into your arms?”

They move to each other at the same time, meeting in the middle of the room. Harry picks Eggsy up off his feet as he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. Eggsy tastes exactly the way he remembered, like tea, and honey, and life itself.

“Eggsy, my darling boy, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, Harry, I got that. We still need to talk about a lot of things but right now, I really want you to take me to bed.”

“I live to serve.”

Eggsy laughs and drags him into the bedroom. Once there, they both undress themselves, watching the other one hungrily. Eggsy finishes first and lies on the bed, one hand lazily stroking himself, while he looks at Harry.

“Like what you see?” He asks, cocky as usual.

“You know I do, you cheeky little shit.”

“Good, get over here and show me then, yeah?”

Harry falls on him all at once, kissing him, slowly at first and then with more heat. His tongue traces Eggsy’s lips, lightly rubs against his tongue, repeatedly until Eggsy is rutting against his leg and making small little moans into Harry’s mouth.

Harry moves to Eggsy’s neck, biting in that place right over his pulse that he knows makes Eggsy shudder.

“Harry, God, missed you so much. So fucking much.”

“Shh, I know, darling, I know.”

Eggsy reaches for Harry’s cock but Harry bats his hand away. “No, sweetheart. I am taking my time with you tonight.”

“Harry…”

“Yes, again. Say it again. I’ve so missed how you say it.”

Eggsy keeps up a litany of Harry’s name as Harry moves down his body, his mouth finding Eggsy’s cock while two fingers rub against his hole. Moments later the fingers disappear and Eggsy hears the click of a bottle being opened, and then the fingers are back, slick with lube and gently, but unerringly, pressing in. He hasn’t had anything inside him since the last time he was with Harry, but the need to feel Harry inside him once more makes him open beautifully. The combined sensations of Harry’s lips around his cock, and his fingers slowly opening him has him barreling towards orgasm much too quickly for his tastes.

“Harry, wait, wait,” he tugs at Harry’s hair to pull him off, “please, want to come when you’re inside me, please Harry.”

Harry raises his head, his fingers, three now, still pistoning in and out of Eggsy’s body.

“Well, since you said please, darling.” Harry raises up and moves back up Eggsy’s body to kiss him. Eggsy reaches for the lube, intending to slick Harry’s cock up and guide it in himself. Harry stops him.

Harry smiles down at him. “My dear boy, I am quite positive if you touch my cock the night will be over, and I am so looking forward to fucking you into the mattress.”

“Jesus, Harry, you’re filthy.”

“Only for you.” Harry slicks himself up and slowly presses into Eggsy, savoring each tight, sweet inch. Eggsy is trembling beneath him, holding himself open with his hands, his knees pressed against Harry’s chest. As soon as Harry bottoms out, he stills for just a moment to let Eggsy get accustomed to him. Ever the impatient one, Eggsy does not take the offered moment at all, and instead moves his hips, his legs coming away from Harry’s chest and wrapping around his back.

Harry brackets Eggsy’s head with his forearms, leaning down to talk directly into his ear. Dirty talk always drove Eggsy absolutely wild. “I’ve so missed the feeling of you, all tight around my cock, my darling. Hearing those little gasps you make as I fuck you just the way you like.” And Eggsy was making those little sounds now, gasps and punched out moans alternating between Harry’s name, _yes, please_ , and _fuck fuck fuck_. Harry snapped his hips harder, his bollocks smacking into Eggsy with each thrust. “Look at you, taking it so beautifully, like the little tart you are. I could fuck you like this for hours if I wanted to, and you would just take it and beg for more.”

“Yes, Harry, _yes._ ”

Harry wraps his hand into Eggsy’s hair, kissing him messily before moving to bite at his jaw and neck.

“Fuck, Eggsy, you’re so fucking tight. Like a virgin on her wedding night. You would think no one has ever even fucked you before.”

Eggsy tightens even further around him, his orgasm fast approaching. Harry is grateful because he doesn’t know how much longer he could be able to hold his own off.

“Harry, Harry… fuck, fuck.”

“Come on, darling, come for me. Come on my cock, you filthy little slag.” Harry bites down again on Eggsy’s neck and Eggsy comes apart under him. He feels Eggsy’s come hit his stomach while his arse clenches almost too tightly around his cock. Harry keeps fucking him through it, allowing himself to chase his own orgasm now that Eggsy has had his.

“Now you Harry. Come in me, make me yours again. Make me yours.”

Three more thrusts and Harry is spending himself deep within Eggsy, a privilege he never through he would have again.

When they both are capable of walking again, they make it into the shower to clean up before collapsing back into bed and falling asleep in each other’s arms. A few hours later Harry wakes to find Eggsy already riding him, his hole still slick and loose from earlier. This time there are no words, just a gentle slide of their bodies against one another, slightly sour night time breath kisses, which neither of them care a bit about, and almost simultaneous, quiet orgasms.

Harry wakes the next morning to find Eggsy already awake and ordering room service. They share tea and muffins in the bed, just happy to be in the same room. Harry waits till he sees the morning fog clear from Eggsy’s eyes before bringing up the trip back.

“Well, the plane leaves in a few hours Eggsy, you should probably go fetch your things.”

“I’m not leaving with you Harry.”

Harry swears he feels his stomach land somewhere in the vicinity of his feet. “Pardon me?

“I’m not leaving with you.”

“And may I inquire as to why?”

Eggsy turns to face him and takes one of his hands. Harry is surprised to find that he was white knuckling the sheets. “Listen Harry, as fucking great as last night was, we still have some shit we need to work on. I’m still a little pissed at you to tell the truth. I promised the Statesmen six months, and they can use me. They just lost two agents and they need help training new recruits. And I think we could use the space right now. I know I can.”

Harry stands up, removing his hand from Eggsy’s and pulling on his pants. He is not having this conversation with his cock hanging out to be sure. “So what was all this then? A quick shag to get it out of your system before you send me back to London? A pity fuck for the old man you used to love?”

“For fucks sake, Harry. Did you not listen to what I just said? No, it wasn’t a pity fuck. I fucking missed you, you daft prick. I came here because I miss you, and I love you, but I am sure as fuck not getting back on a plane to go home and pretend everything is fine between us.” Eggsy stands up and walks towards Harry, and grabs him by the shoulders. “Look at me and fucking listen. I have every intention of coming back to London after my six months here is up, every intention of coming back to _you_ , but there’s shit we got to work out.”

“We can very well work it out in our goddamn home.” Harry says.

“No we can’t. Or at least I can’t. I don’t think straight around you Harry, and I need to know I am coming back to you because I want to, and you want me to, and that all this shit is behind us. There was a reason you believed all that shit I was saying to that bird, and if our relationship was as strong as I thought it was, you would have never ever questioned it, or me.”

Harry hangs his head. Eggsy is right, he knows he is. Even now he can feel the insecurities coming back, that he’s just not good enough for Eggsy, that Eggsy has someone better here, that he is with Harry out of some misplaced obligation.

“You are right, darling. We do have a lot of talking to do. I just wish we could do it in the same room.”

“Six months, Harry. It isn’t that long. And when I come back, if we got all of this squared away, I’ll let you have me over your desk, yeah?” Eggsy gives Harry that cheeky grin that always, always melts Harry’s heart.

Harry kisses Eggsy on the mouth. “Six months. And I will hold you to that.”

“Well, why don’t we practice right now, just to make sure we got the way of it then.”

—————

They are able to “work their shit out” as Eggsy so eloquently put it, but it’s not always easy. Harry confesses his dalliance with the Scottish rent boy and Eggsy doesn’t speak to him for three days. Harry spends an hour yelling at Eggsy over Skype for not trusting him enough to tell him about the mission that started this whole mess. And when Eggsy hangs up on him in a huff, he goes down to Merlin’s office to tell him off about it all over again. Harry revisits his fears over their relationship with the aid of a bottle of Scotch, Eggsy calls him a daft prick and asks Harry, again, how he thinks Eggsy feels, trying to be good enough for a posh, poncy fuck like Harry. How he, a former rent boy, could ever measure up to being the man that a gentleman like Harry deserves.

They cry. They have mutual wank sessions. They mend.

Almost six months later, Harry is in his office, trying to get through the mountain of paperwork he usually does his best to ignore. Eggsy is supposed to be home in three days, and he will be damned if anything takes him out of bed with Eggsy for at least a week after that. A knock startles him out of a fantasy involving Eggsy’s homecoming. Without looking up, he says “Come.”

“Well, I am certainly hoping to, bruv.”

Harry looks up to see Eggsy standing there in a neat, black single breasted suit, a little rumpled from travel, but grinning at him in true Eggsy fashion.

“How are you here? I thought…” Harry stammers at him.

“Yeah, they let me come home a few days early. Whiskey said he was sick of me talking about you constantly and wondered if I could get the fuck out of his face and put him out of his misery.”

Eggsy walks over and leans up against the desk, standing over Harry. He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a small bottle, pushing it into Harry’s hand.

“So, now that I’m home, I think you have a promise to fulfill, yeah?”

“Well, a gentleman is as only as good as his word, darling.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ViolyntFemme](www.violyntfemme.tumblr.com) on tumblr as well.


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